Serene Seduction
by D-Hadevir
Summary: Daemon is finally where he belongs: the Dark Court. He is the Consort, but he still needs to find his way into Jaenelle's heart. Set during Queen of Darkness, after Daemon arrives in Kaeleer. Short story, mostly fluff.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters, world or concepts used here; all characters, world and concepts belong to Anne Bishop.

**Author's Note:** Feedback, good and bad, is always appreciated. It's the only way to improve. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy it.

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**Serene Seduction**

**Chapter 1**

Daemon was pacing around the living room in the Consort's suite, a scowl on his face and fists clenched hard to resist the temptation of destroying the furniture, when he heard a shy knock on the door. His lips curled into a silent snarl as he gracefully turned around and stared at the closed door. Who dared to disturb him? He opened his inner barriers slightly. The dark psychic scent he felt made the ground disappear from under his feet. _Mother Night!_

Taking a deep breath to control his rising temper and discipline his face, Daemon settled into the closest chair and reached for the first book he found on the desk next to him. He wasn't about to admit that he was sneaking out to hide in his suite more and more in the last couple of weeks, fighting his anger and frustration, desperately trying to stay away from the killing edge.

"Come in," he said, trying to sound relaxed.

Jaenelle opened the door halfway and peeked in.

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting?" She seemed to notice the tension in the air and frowned when she looked at Daemon. "Are you ok? You disappeared before breakfast…"

Daemon shrugged, as if it didn't matter.

"I wasn't hungry, so I came upstairs and lost track of time reading." Telling that small lie under her gaze made his cheeks burn. He tried to keep a friendly and slightly curious expression. "Come in."

Jaenelle entered the room, carrying a mug of coffee with a tempting smell that made him salivate. She leaned against the door, looking at him. Her expression was too thoughtful.

"Hmmm… You were reading… and you decided it was more comfortable to stay in a wooden chair behind your desk, instead of sitting on the couch or on the armchair by the window, for instance." She pretended to ponder the issue. "You're right, it wouldn't be so comfortable."

Daemon saw the amusement in her eyes and noticed the sarcasm she made no effort to disguise. He narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together.

"Comfort is a relative concept." At least his voice still sounded relaxed, right?

"Reading must be a relative concept too, then. I'm familiar with a few reading styles, but I never saw a book you had to read upside down." Jaenelle replied, lifting an eyebrow.

Daemon tried to come up with a witty comeback, but that gaze and all that interest focused on him were clouding his mind. Giving up, he let out an exasperated sigh and tossed the book onto the desk, casting an annoyed glare in its direction as the sudden movement scattered a small pile of papers.

Jaenelle's silvery, velvet coated laughter filled the room, but Daemon was too irritated to find the humor in the situation. He used to be very good at concealing his emotions, what the hell was wrong with him?

"Do you want to take a seat, or will you continue to tease me while standing?" He asked dryly, turning his eyes to her again.

Resuming a straight face, Jaenelle walked across the room and settled in the furthest end of the sofa. Wrapping her hands around the mug and holding it on her lap, she looked at him cautiously.

"Are you angry because of that fall in practice today?"

"I'm not angry." Daemon grumbled between his teeth.

Uncomfortable, he stood up and went to the glass door that led to his balcony. He looked at the garden outside, more as a way to avoid her gaze than anything else. He wasn't angry. He was frustrated and, he had to admit it, consumed by jealousy. It was becoming unbearable to see her sharing kisses and caresses with the whole First Circle, and then run away every time he tried to get closer to her.

That morning, when Daemon finished his drill with Lucivar after a somewhat clumsy fall, he spotted Jaenelle alone under a maple tree, looking worried at him. Embarrassed by his fall but equally eager to talk to her, Daemon walked towards her. But when Jaenelle looked around and realized they would be alone, she blushed intensely, grabbed her practice stick and rushed off to the women's arena. Daemon clenched both his teeth and his fists and left the yard, ignoring Lucivar's call, before he ripped someone's arm off.

"In that case, why didn't you join us for breakfast?"

Daemon squirmed a bit, not willing to turn around and face her, nor admit the truth. But she wasn't going to let that go.

"I wasn't hungry and I needed a shower." _A cold one_, he added silently, still turning away from her, looking outside through the glass door.

Jaenelle didn't answer. As the silence lingered between them, she stood up and approached him hesitantly, stopping behind him. Daemon hung his head, already regretting venting to her.

"Well, anyway, I thought I could bring you a mug of coffee and… and check out how you were. That fall looked pretty painful." She said in a low voice.

Daemon sighed and finally turned his back on the glass door, so he could look at her. So he could find a way to apologize. Looking at her closely, he stood very still. She seemed nervous… _Stupid! _Jaenelle was in the Consort's suite, with him. They were alone. This was his opportunity.

Taking a deep breath, he relaxed both mind and body, smiling the way that used to stun Terreille's witches to the point they would let him do whatever he pleased. Then, he ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling it up a bit, as he slightly released the leash on his sexuality.

"Thank you," he said in his deep, seducing voice.

Jaenelle tried to answer, but the words were lost before they reached her mouth. Daemon felt an intense pleasure when he saw the reaction he was looking for. He drew closer. Jaenelle's eyes wandered from his eyes to his mouth.

"I…" She bit her lower lip and looked away, clearly struggling to focus.

Daemon raised a hand to touch her at the same time she reached out to give him the coffee mug, which caused the coffee to be spilled all over Daemon's shirt. He jumped back, cursing fiercely and trying to push the shirt far from his skin. Jaenelle paled and took a step forward, apologizing frantically. Daemon swallowed the next curse and vanished his shirt.

Jaenelle had called in a towel to help him clean himself. "I'm sorry, Daemon," she repeated anxiously. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"It's nothing, don't worry," Daemon replied, although his breath came in with a hiss when the towel touched his chest. Then, looking at her worried, "Are you hurt?"

Jaenelle glanced down at her own shirt, finding only a few small flecks of stain on her sleeve. She shook her head.

"No, I'm fine." She grimaced and grew slightly paler as she laid her eyes on his chest once more. "Mother Night, I burned you! I'm sorry, Daemon. I had placed a simple warming spell in the mug, but maybe it was too strong…"

Daemon bit his tongue, holding back a moan. Of course, one of Jaenelle's _simple spells__!_

She hesitated for a moment "I have an ointment that will take care of that in no time. If you want to, I can treat that now, before it gets any worse." Suddenly determined and bossy, she added, "Take a seat on that chair, I'll be right back." And with that, she left the room in a hurry.

Daemon watched her as she left. The anxious woman was gone, the bossy Healer would return at any moment. But the worry he saw in her eyes took the pain from his mind for a few moments, making him feel almost childishly happy. _Maybe I'm not so well, after all_, he thought, with a grin.

Carefully taking a seat, so he wouldn't force the sore shoulder and back muscles, which were even tighter after that sudden jump, Daemon tried not to wince due to the burning sensation on his chest. The morning had just started and it already looked like it couldn't get any worse.

Jaenelle finally returned with more towels, two jars of ointment and a clean shirt. Laying them on the desk next to them, she pulled up another chair and sat in front of him. She looked a little flushed, but had the focused look of a Healer while working.

She called in a small basin with cold water, soaked one of the towels in it and cleaned his chest, slowly, soothing the burning sensation at the same time. Daemon let out a relieved sigh, but winced when her fingers took the place of the fresh towel, touching the irritated skin. Jaenelle gave him a quick apologetic glance before standing up again and focusing on what she was doing. Her soft and knowing hands explored his chest, and also each of his sore muscles.

"It wasn't so bad. Good thing you took your shirt off right away," she said, starting to apply the ointment on his chest.

Daemon felt the warm and dark power of Jaenelle's healing web flowing through him. He finally relaxed, as the ointment soothed and relieved his skin. Then she grabbed the other jar, bigger than the first one, and placed herself behind Daemon, to treat his back and shoulder.

Delighting in the feeling of her touch, firm but delicate, Daemon held back a satisfied smile and stayed very still, apart from a relieved sigh as the muscles eased again. He did nothing to break the silence between them, afraid she would run away again.

Was she making the massage last longer than necessary, or was that simply his wish? As if she read his mind, Jaenelle finished the massage and took her seat in front of him once more, biting her lower lip and looking at everything except him.

"Will I survive?" Daemon asked, lightly.

"Yes, you will," she answered, the tiniest glimpse of a smile flickering on her lips. "I can apply the liniment again after the midday meal, if you're still feeling any pain, but you'll be fine and there won't be any scars either. You should lie down for a while, though, to rest your back."

_Of course I'll still be in pain!_ Daemon thought, hiding a grin. Instead, he nodded in agreement. "Does that mean I can keep my plans for tonight?"

Jaenelle cleared her throat, suddenly embarrassed. "Yes, I don't see any problem…"

Considering they would go to an aristo party – the first time he would escort her officially as her Consort – Daemon didn't want to miss it for anything. That evening, he would have a golden opportunity to be with Jaenelle, maybe his only opportunity. And he had no intention of wasting it, not when all his attempts in the Hall, with so many people around them, were constantly ruined.

The day was turning out to be much better than he had thought after all, which increased his expectations about that night. And that thought lightened his mood more than anything else.

"Well…" Jaenelle hesitated, looked around. "I should go now and let you rest…"

She tried to stand up, but before she could, Daemon reached for her hand. "Wait!"

He didn't want to let her go. Not yet. She settled down again, looking intensely at him. He gently pushed a lock of hair out of her face and let his fingers linger on her skin a little longer. Looked deep in those sapphire eyes that captivated him, losing himself in the confusing swirl of feelings he saw there.

He wanted to kiss her! Mother Night, how he wanted to…

"Thank you," he whispered in a hoarse voice, denying the desire that threatened to suffocate him.

Jaenelle looked baffled. Something flickered in her eyes, but before Daemon could understand what it was, she looked away. With a hesitant smile she nodded slightly and stood up to leave the room. Daemon stood up too and reached for the clean shirt she had gotten him, trying not to think about how much he wanted to punch himself right now. The fear of scaring her away stopped him and now he regretted that decision. _Tonight… tonight will be different_, he told himself.

Jaenelle stopped as she reached the door, her hand on the door handle. Daemon said nothing. He couldn't trust himself right now. She hesitated, turned her head towards him for a moment.

"See you later…" she said, with a quick glance at him before leaving the room.

Daemon carefully dropped himself on the sofa, in a half sitting, half lying position, his shirt still unbuttoned. A hopeful smile curved his lips. He hadn't imagined the desire in her eyes, under the concern and the nerves. Had he?

He knew women pretty well, but Jaenelle was a hard puzzle to solve. If only he could understand why she was running away from him… if he could get her to feel comfortable with him, he would have a chance.

With any other woman, he knew exactly how to deal with that initial hesitation. But Jaenelle was different. He didn't want to make her feel pressured, much less hurt her. He wanted more, much more than just one night with her.

_If you want to bed a woman, do it in the bedroom. If you want to seduce her, do it in the dance._ His father's advice, centuries ago. An advice he'd follow tonight.

Tonight, he had the perfect reason to be with her, to court her, to dance with her. To seduce her. _And the right to get rid of any male who tries to interfere_, he thought satisfied. Tonight, Jaenelle would be his! And he wasn't going to let her slip away, unless she asked him to leave.

He lifted himself to his feet, moaning softly as the back muscles screamed in protest, and went to his bedroom. He stopped in front of his full body mirror, examining his chest. The ointment still covered his skin but the burning sensation was gone. He smiled, relieved to see how quickly it had worked.

His eyes looked over the body reflected in the mirror. He had regained his shape during the years he had lived with Surreal, before coming to Kaeleer, but practicing with Lucivar had much more effective results. His body was once again a perfectly sharpened weapon. Looking up to his face, he gazed into the golden eyes in the mirror. That evening couldn't come soon enough. Holding out his left hand, Daemon examined the Consort's ring on his finger. His smile sharpened as the Sadist started planning his evening with his Lady. He had a little surprise in mind for her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry for the delay, I've been busy. I'll try to be faster from now on. I appreciate any feedback and criticism I can get. Thank you for reading.

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**Chapter 2**

Standing in front of the mirror, Daemon adjusted his cuffs and examined his reflection with a critical eye. He didn't want anything out of place. Tonight, he had to be perfect, irresistible.

However, the same doubts kept crossing his mind, again and again. What if Jaenelle rejected him? What if she was avoiding him just so she didn't have to tell him bluntly she didn't want him? He had waited for this moment all his life, had yearned for her for centuries, but… what if _he_ wasn't what Witch wanted?

Looking into the golden eyes reflected in the mirror, Daemon shook his head. He looked like a young and inexperienced boy, nervous for going out with a girlfriend for the first time.

He suppressed a laugh at that thought. Daemon Sadi, Black Jeweled Warlord Prince, the Sadist, known and feared in Terreille for his abilities to seduce any breathing thing, was nervous because of the woman he would escort tonight. Terrified of the possibility of being turned down by the only woman he wanted more than anything.

Taking a deep breath, he focused on his hair. Using Craft to make it look just disheveled enough to create the urge to bury one's fingers in, he examined the result with a raised eyebrow. He wouldn't mind looking like that at some point that night, but for now, the event and the place demanded a formal appearance. He brushed his hair back carefully, using Craft to keep it where he wanted it to be.

He wondered what she would think when she saw him. How he would react when he saw her. Part of him wanted to see her in that black spider silk dress again, but on the other hand, he didn't want her using it in public, or the temptation to kill any male that looked at her could be impossible to resist.

Pushing that thought away, he took one last deep breath, one last look in the mirror and left his room. Not to meet Jaenelle as he wanted to, but following Saetan's advice, to meet him and his brother, who waited for him in the Steward's study.

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Jaenelle was looking at the mirror, but she wasn't really seeing it. Her elbows rested on the dressing table and her chin rested on one hand, while the other one absent-mindedly fumbled with the hair brush. A music crystal was playing, spreading the low and soft notes through the room. The serene music was soothing and she used to put it on whenever she had to dress up, in an attempt to distract herself from the boring task.

But tonight she didn't listen to the music either. Her mind was far away. Actually, it wasn't that far. It was in the next room and its inhabitant. Daemon would be her escort tonight. As her Consort. That simple thought was enough to make her panic.

Ever since Daemon had arrived at the Hall, she was living in a perpetually startled state. Both her body and her mind reacted in unexpected and intense ways to his presence. She felt things different than anything else she had felt before, feelings that excited and scared her in equal amounts.

When she was with him, something in her mind shouted _'Run away!'_, but when she wasn't, she couldn't stop thinking of him. Her thoughts constantly slipped to him, to the way he smiled and the way he moved. And whenever he talked to her, with that voice that made her blood race, she couldn't stop herself from thinking about what she wanted to do. And that made her run away. Deep down, she knew she was just running away from herself. Her mind, because of all she had been through and especially because of _what_ she was, made her hesitate and fear what could happen. Her heart, on the other hand, yearned for that leap into the unknown.

And now, running away wouldn't be an option at all. Daemon would be her escort all evening. In a way, this was also going to be his formal introduction to Kaeleer as the Consort to the Dark Court. This meant she couldn't just excuse herself and disappear, this time. She had to face her feelings. But how? What was she supposed to do? What were they going to talk about? And Daemon, what would he do?

They would dance, probably. She couldn't wait to dance with him again. She still remembered the only time they had danced together, just as well as she remembered the kiss. Could still feel his warm hands on her face, the feeling of his lips… could still feel the ground disappearing from under her feet with the intensity of that feeling she couldn't recognize at the time, but that she fiercely wanted to feel again.

Jaenelle grabbed her hair brush, but let out a sigh when she looked in the mirror. Thirteen years had passed since that day. She was no longer a child. She had grown up, changed, in every way. What if Daemon didn't want her anymore?

Dropping the hair brush on the dressing table, Jaenelle stood up, frustrated, and started to pace. Sometimes Daemon was the friend he had been before, and he didn't seem to wish anything more than that. And sometimes he would say something or look at her in a way that made her heart skip a beat. But he didn't _do_ anything, which was driving her nuts.

Like that morning, in his sitting room. She thought he was going to kiss her, but he backed away instead and she noticed a flicker of anger and frustration in his eyes. As if he thought she was demanding something from him. Since then, Jaenelle had done her best to give him space during the day.

She wandered across the room, thinking about the last couple of weeks, until she found herself in front of the glass doors that led to the garden. She looked outside, to where the sun was setting, between the trees.

She had no doubts about her feelings, in spite of her hesitation. But she needed to know what Daemon's feelings were. What if he simply didn't want her? In spite of all the things he had told her in the abyss, she wasn't sure if he meant it or if he was simply trying to make her heal her body. And she didn't want to – wasn't going to – force him to do something he didn't wish to do.

The sunset painted the sky and the sparse clouds in shades of purple, red and orange, as the night fell. Jaenelle leaned her forehead against the glass, looking at that scenery. She could kiss him, if she had the guts. She could take the initiative, take the chance. She had done it once before, after all. She _could_ do it… if she knew how to kiss. But she didn't know what she was doing that first time either, and he hadn't laughed at her…

_Idiot, he probably didn't even take you seriously! You were just a kid!_ Turning away from the doors, she bit her lip and frowned, feeling completely lost.

Whatever decision she made, she had to make it fast. As the days went by, she could see a shadow growing darker in Daemon's eyes. He wasn't happy, even though he tried to hide it. But he couldn't avoid the bursts of anger that came for apparently no reason. A man like Daemon wouldn't stand that kind of situation for a long time. Eventually, he would take interest in someone, and there was no shortage of candidates trying their luck…

That thought infuriated her. She couldn't stand the idea of seeing him taking interest in another woman. She closed her eyes and cursed intensely. She couldn't give up that easily. She might not understand what was in Daemon's mind, but she had to do something.

Taking her seat in front of the dressing table once again, she looked in the mirror, forced herself to take a deep breath and calm down. One step at a time. She would go through this party first and she would do her best to make Daemon notice her.

She looked at her hair and tried to put it into a bun. She examined her reflection when she was done, wondering if Daemon would like it when he saw her. She couldn't reach any conclusion. Maybe she should just let it fall down her back freely?

Hell's fire, why did this have to be so hard? She had never cared about her appearance before, how could she know what males liked? What _Daemon_ liked?

Maybe it had been a bad idea to refuse Marian's help, that afternoon, but stubbornness had gotten the best of her. With a tormented groan, Jaenelle crossed her arms on the dressing table and hid her face in them, only to jump back startled when she heard the knock on the door. The door that led to her sitting room, not to Daemon's room. And it wasn't Daemon's psychic scent either. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, but she relaxed a bit.

"Come in, Papa!" Unsure if she felt relieved or nervous for his appearance, she took a last quick glance in the mirror, ran her fingers through her hair to make sure it was holding and turned to the door. Saetan peeked in and looked around, searching for her.

"Witch-child? We're wait…" His voice was lost when he saw her.

For a moment, Jaenelle thought his jaw was really going to drop, before he managed to discipline his face, but he quickly resumed his calm and relaxed appearance.

"We're waiting for you downstairs. Lucivar just left with Marian and Surreal. We'll go in the other Coach." He cleared his throat and looked at her, from head to toe. "Are you ready?"

Ready? Of course she wasn't ready! She had felt her face burning with Saetan's exam, but now she was unsure about his reaction – and with the fact that he couldn't conceal it. Did she look ridiculous?

All she wanted was to take that fancy dress off, sneak into bed and not talk to anyone. But unfortunately that was not an option. She had to go to that party with a bunch of elegant dressed up aristos, with their eyes locked on her… and she would be escorted by the most beautiful man in the realm!

She bit her tongue and held back another curse. She looked ridiculous for sure! Saetan raised an eyebrow, realizing she was uncomfortable. _Mother Night, what did I get myself into?_ Nervous, Jaenelle still tried to smile.

"I'm almost done." She paused and took a deep breath. "Saetan… what do you think?" she asked, opening her arms and looking down.

Saetan entered the room and closed the door behind him, then looked her in the eyes, his face carefully neutral. _Saetan_. She wasn't asking his opinion as her father and it wasn't just a casual question, and he understood the difference.

After a moment – that seemed too long – Saetan smiled, walked towards her and held out a hand that she took. He spun her around, examining the dress again.

"You look stunning, Lady!"

"Thank you," Jaenelle replied in a low voice, with a hesitant smile.

Letting go of his hand, she turned to the dressing table to choose a set of earrings, with a little more enthusiasm than before.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Thank you for the reviews Mycha and mischy22! :D

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**Chapter 3  
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The tables were almost empty now that the dinner was over. Everyone was on the other side of the ballroom dancing, surrounding the dance floor or talking to someone. In one of the corners, a small orchestra was playing some cheery ballroom dance. On another corner, a bar had been set to serve the guests through the evening.

Jaenelle was still sitting at one of the tables, facing the dance floor. Her hands were resting on the table, slowly spinning the already empty champagne flute in front of her, while she kept an eye on Daemon, who had just shared the first dance of the evening with the Province Queen that was hosting the party.

A servant approached and offered her another champagne flute. Jaenelle accepted it and drank it all at once. The servant hesitated, but ended up serving her another one. Jaenelle was looking at the dance floor again.

According to the tradition, the hostess should've opened the ball dancing with her own escort, but as she had announced with such an enthusiasm, traditions existed to be thrown out the window, every now and then. Then she had asked Daemon to dance with her, since this was also his introduction to Kaeleer's aristocracy. Daemon had appreciated "the courtesy", accepting the invitation as long as "his Lady didn't oppose". Then, he looked at Jaenelle, leaving the decision on her hands.

In spite of being the Queen and Daemon _her_ Consort, this wasn't her party, so a refusal could be taken as an offense. Besides, Saetan still ruled the Territory and was both her adoptive father and Daemon's father. Therefore, she resisted the urge to say no and even managed to keep a polite smile on her face when she agreed and while Daemon walked away with the delighted woman clinging to his arm.

When the dance ended, Daemon bowed before the Queen and tried to return to the table where Jaenelle was waiting, but was quickly surrounded by other guests who approached to introduce themselves and, obviously, take a closer look at him.

Since she could dive deeper in the psychic abyss than any other Blood member, Jaenelle was quite aware of the emotional undercurrents in the room. She realized and could even understand people's interest and curiosity over Daemon, just as well as she understood their apprehension and their caution when they realized who's son he was and what Jewels we wore. She also realized Daemon's effort to be patient with everyone, even when he was clearly eager to get away from the crowd. However, he was still as courteous and charming as he was when they first arrived. More so, he seemed to do it perfectly, effortlessly, except for an occasional glance in Jaenelle's direction.

Maybe he wanted her to go save him, but he looked like he was dealing with all that fuss without any problems. He always knew exactly what to say and was able to answer any question or comment with elegance and determination. Daemon seemed as comfortable and at ease in an aristo party as an Eyrien felt in a battlefield.

Jaenelle, on the other hand, really didn't feel like getting out of her chair and facing the curious looks and all the questions. She couldn't do it as easily as he did, not in her current state of mind, at least. Besides, she couldn't help feeling a bit irritated with him for his easiness, so she let him deal with all the attention and embarrassing questions on his own, while she tried to gather her wits.

She thought she was prepared to introduce him officially as her Consort. Had tried to convince herself it wouldn't be a big deal, it was perfectly natural for a Queen to have a Consort, after all. She couldn't be more wrong.

It shouldn't surprise her that everyone wondered why the Queen of Ebon Askavi had never accepted a Consort. Oh, plenty of males had tried their luck and were requested to meet the Steward – Jaenelle held back a smile when she remembered how fast they left the Hall after those short meetings. Sure, she had expected the commotion, even a few questions. But she didn't know they had _that much_ interest for her personal life, and that fact made her feel uncomfortable, to say the least.

Sipping her champagne, Jaenelle let out a sigh, her mind still wandering through the evening's events.

As soon as they arrived, everyone stopped and all the eyes turned to them. Jaenelle was used to have the attentions turning to her when she was doing Queen stuff, but the whispered comments following them from the moment they walked into the room didn't help relieve the tension between her and Daemon. Well, the tension in her, because Daemon looked perfectly at ease. The aristocratic demeanor, the seductive smile, everything about him exuded strength and control. When he offered his arm to escort her into the room, Jaenelle took it gladly, encouraged by that contact to cross the room and greet the hostess.

At dinner, even though they were sitting with over a dozen other people, Daemon had been completely focused on her. As a result, Jaenelle felt as if she had just finished an emotional Khaldharon Run. Every time Daemon made her heart almost jump out of her chest or made her blush intensely over something he had said or done, she would also feel irritated because everyone seemed to be having fun with all that – especially her _dear_ brother.

Then, there were all those women around Daemon. Most of them wouldn't dare being too obvious with Jaenelle close by, but they didn't take their eyes off of him, whispering and giggling amongst each other. But a few, the daring ones, who Jaenelle was convinced didn't have much love for their lives, tried to flirt with him or get him to dance with them, making Jaenelle fight the urge to gouge a few eyes out.

A familiar laughter snapped her out of her thoughts. Looking at the dance floor, Jaenelle saw Khary kissing Morghann's cheek, before leaving her to get them some drinks. Morghann spotted Jaenelle and joined her at the table.

"Hell's fire, these shoes are killing me!" She complained, sinking down into a vacant chair next to her and leaning forward to rub her ankles.

Jaenelle held back a smile. Her friend's cheeks were flushed, her eyes were sparkly and she had a huge smile on her face. She seemed to be feeling anything but discomfort.

"Oh, really? I wouldn't guess… You seemed to be having fun just now."

Morghann straightened up on the chair, her smile now playful.

"Nothing would stop me from dancing with Khary tonight! Not even these tiny shoes Karla let me borrow." She winced and lowered her voice. "And if I have to dance bare foot, which seems likely, so be it." She looked around, certainly asking herself how shocked all those aristos would be by that. Her eyes lay for a moment on a couple neither of them could stand, but she ended up shrugging. "But tonight is being too much fun to shock the tips off of their stuck-up noses."

"Are you serious? This morning, you said this party was going to be so boring, worse than your presentation as Queen of Scelt." Jaenelle said, amused.

"I changed my mind," Morghann replied. Taking a closer look at Jaenelle, she asked too innocently. "Are you bored?"

Jaenelle didn't answer, but her eyes were once more drawn to Daemon. How could it be boring when he was determined to make her do something crazy in front of everyone? Between the desire, the irritation and her body reactions to him, boredom was possibly the only thing she hadn't felt tonight.

Morghann was examining her, extremely interested, her smile growing bigger. Jaenelle reached for her champagne flute, to gain some time, but it was empty again.

"I thought you were angry with Khary… I wasn't even expecting you to come to this party, to be honest," she said, trying to change the subject.

"Oh, that. He was just being too fussy, but we're fine now." Morghann said lightly.

Jaenelle gave her a confused look. "I see… How long did that argument last? Two hours?"

"That doesn't matter. The best part of arguing is making up, anyway, so why waste time being angry with each other?" Morghann replied, a mischievous smile on her face when she glanced at Daemon, who was now talking to Lucivar. She leaned closer and said in a low voice "You know, it's always better after making up…"

Jaenelle shook her head and rolled her eyes, but Morghann insisted. "I'm telling you, you won't regret it." She glanced in Daemon's direction once more.

Jaenelle narrowed her eyes, trying to decide if she wanted to change the subject or satisfy the curiosity, when his psychic scent washed through her.

"Ladies."

His deep voice, with a husky touch, sent a shiver down her spine. Startled, Jaenelle turned to face him.

"Daemon!" Her voice sounded slightly higher than usual. She felt her cheeks burn with the embarrassment. _Hell's fire, control yourself, woman!_

Daemon turned to Morghann, smiling as he leaned to kiss her hand. Jaenelle gave him a cautious and nervous look, hoping he hadn't heard anything of what they were talking about. Then, Daemon looked her straight in the eyes, took her hand, raising it to his lips and, after a short pause that made her heart skip a beat, kissed the knuckles of her fingers lightly.

"Lady Angelline, will you give me the pleasure of dancing with you?" he asked in that hypnotizing voice.

Jaenelle felt butterflies in her stomach in anticipation, but his formality pricked her temper. He had talked to her normally all evening, why was he all formal all of a sudden? Studying him, she saw the amusement in his eyes and decided she could play too, whatever game that was. She raised an eyebrow, as if she was pondering, thus giving herself a moment to organize her thoughts. Daemon waited patiently, with that seducing and annoyingly delicious smile on his lips.

"It will be my pleasure, Prince," she finally replied, emphasizing the title and inclining her head in an insolent bow.

His face didn't change, but he narrowed his eyes slightly and Jaenelle knew she had hit the spot. He didn't like it when she called him Prince either. Hiding a smile, she gave Morghann a quick glance, accepted his hand and stood up.

Once more, the curious looks followed them across the room, along with the more or less concealed comments about the "Lady's Consort". Everyone wondered how he had gotten the most sought after position in the Dark Court, as soon as he arrived in Kaeleer. All they knew was that he was the High Lord's son, Lucivar's half-brother, a beautiful and powerful Warlord Prince. They didn't know _him_ and they didn't know the Sadist as the Blood in Terreille knew. They didn't know what he was capable of, both the good and the bad. So they wondered how he had managed what no other man had before – being accepted as Jaenelle's Consort.

Jaenelle kept looking straight forward, her face calm and collected as she walked with Daemon. On the inside, though, the tension was rising with each step she took. She took comfort from his presence beside her. He looked like he wasn't seeing anyone else in the room. Then, when she was starting to feel truly apprehensive, they arrived at the dance floor.

The moment Daemon stood in front of her and they started dancing, Jaenelle felt herself relax. People were still looking at them, but it didn't matter anymore. Completely different sensations were rushing through her. She danced often, she loved it. But dancing with Daemon was different. The room disappeared, the blood raced through her veins and she felt _alive_. Their movements were natural and sensuous. The intensity in his eyes held hers, revealing as much as they hid, making her imagination run wild. With each movement he roused her senses and her body, making her want more.

When the music started to fade, Jaenelle suddenly remembered they were not alone. She glanced around, but before she could say or do anything, music filled the air again.

Perplexed, she stared at Daemon, as the pairs around them resumed the dancing. She hadn't heard that in years. Since they had danced together in Chaillot. Was that simply a coincidence or had he planned it?

His expectant look gave her the answer. Daemon held out his hand once more. Still baffled, Jaenelle took it, while the memories returned, as intense and clear as thirteen years ago. As if she was once again a clumsy child standing before her beautiful Prince, eyes locked on his, fingertips touching each other, their bodies moving in harmony, showing her that maybe there was a world different from the one she knew – a better world.

Daemon remembered that afternoon. Did it mean as much to him as it did to her?

All the memories from those months with him collided inside her, scraping her self-control. Unsure what to say, she looked up at him. The hurt she found in his eyes surprised her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

The rush Jaenelle felt this time wasn't pleasant. _Sorry?_ Where did that come from, all of a sudden?

Daemon wasn't smiling anymore. He subtly looked around, his body tensing, before he managed a polite smile that didn't reach his eyes. Jaenelle realized he would have simply left if they weren't in public and he wasn't escorting her. They were still dancing, but there was a distance between them now. It wasn't Daemon dancing with her, anymore. It was the Consort serving his Queen, no matter how much that cost him.

Jaenelle leaned her head slightly towards the curtains hiding one of the glass doors that led outside, maybe to a balcony, where they could have some privacy. With an almost relieved nod, Daemon bowed, ending the dance and they left the dance floor together.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

As soon as they got outside and Daemon closed the glass doors behind him, the sounds of the music and the conversations were muffled. Relieved to find that place deserted, giving them the privacy they needed, Jaenelle looked around.

They were in some kind of paved terrace which seemed to work as a passage to one of the inner gardens of the mansion. The stone floor was bordered by a white stone balustrade. To the left, next to the wall, a small set of stairs led to the garden, in which scattered stones on the ground formed a path leading to its depths. The only light sources were the moonlight and the tenuous light from inside the mansion that passed through the glass door.

She looked around, examining the garden. It looked almost wild, as if the trees had grown randomly, but she could see the caring and love put into it. Ferns and different kinds of trees spread around in a seemingly disorganized way, giving the place a relaxed and cozy atmosphere. In spite of the chaos – or maybe because of it – that place offered serenity and peace.

The rustle of the leaves in the night breeze, the muffled sounds from inside the house and the soft silver moonlight gave it an almost magical aura. Jaenelle took a deep breath and closed her eyes, taking in the sensations and the scents, feeling the urge to take her shoes off and feel the land under her feet, to lie on the grass looking at the stars.

Daemon kept walking slowly towards the balustrade, placing his hands on the stone railing, his back turned to her. Remembering what had brought them there, Jaenelle walked towards him, stopping at his side, at arm's distance.

She didn't want to be caught staring at him, but it was impossible to look away from that image. His toned, slender body and feline grace teased her. His broad shoulders and his perfect face outlined by the moonlight captivated her. The breeze played with his dark hair, disheveling some locks onto his forehead as he hung his head.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, in such a low voice she could barely listen to him, although the sorrow in it was obvious.

She wanted to touch him, but stood very still, instead. She could barely breathe. "For what?"

"For everything," he answered, shaking his head slowly, still not looking at her. "For not doing more. For not protecting you when they hurt you. You are _my Queen_! I should've protected you…" Despair now filled his voice, the knuckles of his fingers white from his grip on the stone.

"Daemon." Without thinking, Jaenelle took another step, eliminating the distance between them, and placed a hand on his forearm, waiting for him to turn his head and look at her. "You did more than you think. You were my friend and you were there when I needed one. You made my days happier. You truly did help me."

Daemon shook his head, a guilty look in his eyes. "When I chose that dance, I thought you'd like it. I didn't think it would hurt you to remember that afternoon… those months… I should've known better."

"It didn't hurt me. Not at all," she replied so quickly Daemon looked at her suspiciously. She tried to explain. "I just… wasn't expecting it. I didn't think you remembered that. It caught me by surprise, but it wasn't bad…"

She looked away, biting her lower lip, her fingers caressing the stone nervously. If she didn't say it now, she would never again have the heart to. "It was a wonderful afternoon. Those were the best months of my childhood." She whispered, not daring to look in his eyes and find out what they showed.

She looked at the garden instead, when she felt him move. Her cheeks were burning and the idea of getting out of there was incredibly tempting, but her legs didn't want to move. Finally, the curiosity beat the nerves and she tried a quick glance at him.

He was now facing her, his side leaning against the balustrade, hands on his pockets, golden eyes studying her. And his lips were curved in that smile that made her weak in the knees. Why did he have to smile like that? It was hard to think clearly…

Daemon pulled away from the balustrade, taking his hands out of his pockets. "Dance with me, Jaenelle." His whisper blended with the rustle of the leaves.

_Dance…?_ Jaenelle thought blankly. Making an effort to focus, she noticed a soft melody, so delicate and low she wondered if she was imagining it. Looking at him right now, so beautiful and so close to her, she couldn't find her voice.

Daemon seemed to take her silence as a yes and drew closer, laying his hands on her waist. The warmth of his hands sent another shiver down her spine and any remaining rational thoughts fled her brain. She wrapped her arms around his neck and they started to dance.

The music and the atmosphere consumed them. Daemon was teasing something inside her, something that was struggling to be released. It was so easy getting lost in that moment, drifting away in that sensation. She breathed his scent, comforting and exciting. His hands gently pulled her closer, until she could feel his body against hers. She could feel his breath at her ear, warm and tempting, the warmth of his body… they were so close now, Daemon could certainly listen to her heart, pounding in her chest.

Jaenelle didn't realize the moment they stopped dancing. She didn't want to move from there. What she saw in Daemon's eyes took her breath away. And his lips… she licked her own. Something wild inside her was desperately trying to be released and take over her. Daemon was getting closer, his hands keeping her close to him. Jaenelle closed her eyes when she felt his breath against her skin. She could almost feel his lips now, taste them…

"Bastard, is that you? I have to…" Lucivar stopped suddenly when he saw them and realized what was going on.

He stood by the glass door, one hand still holding it open, a surprised and guilty look on his face. The vicious snarl coming from Daemon's chest was anything but subtle and Jaenelle was sure her heart had stopped before jumping out of her chest.

Suddenly, all her senses focused again, all her thoughts – and fears – returned and she hastily stepped away from Daemon, until she hit the stone balustrade. Witch hovered close to the surface, furious and with an incredible desire to throttle Lucivar for his damn timing. But Jaenelle felt her head spinning and couldn't really trust her legs right now – damn, she couldn't trust any part of her – so she stood very still, leaning against the stone railing, trying to regain her self-control and a somewhat normal heart rhythm.

Daemon was looking at her, hurt and frustration in his eyes, but it was Lucivar who he glared at, looking like he wanted to throttle him as much as she did. That thought didn't help her regain any kind of self-control.

"What do you want?" he snarled between gritted teeth.

"I just…" Lucivar rubbed his neck, slightly embarrassed and extremely amused. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were both here and…" He glanced at Jaenelle before looking at Daemon again, clearly trying to hold back a grin.

Daemon put his hands in his pockets and took a lazy step in Lucivar's direction. Lucivar kept his eyes locked on Daemon, cautiously. Pulling his wings closer to his body, he cleared his throat.

"I just wanted to let you know Marian and I have to go. Apparently, Daemonar is… well, being his usual self. But you'll have to take Surreal with you."

"And you couldn't have told that to Saetan instead?" Daemon replied.

Lucivar shrugged. "He wants to go now too, so he asked me to tell you." He paused, studying Daemon's mood before smiling his usual lazy, arrogant grin. "I'll see you later, then. Have fun, pretend I was never here."

Jaenelle wasn't paying much attention to the conversation, but she felt like smacking Lucivar when he winked at her, before going back into the house, leaving her alone with Daemon again.

An uncomfortable silence lingered between them. She knew she had hurt him running from him like that. But she was completely out of control. Witch wasn't happy. She was having trouble leashing her own temper, and that scared her. She hated losing control like that. She scared everyone around her, when it happened, sometimes she even hurt them. And this time she didn't even know what she could do.

"Jaenelle…" Daemon was standing right in front of her again. _Too close_.

His scent, that sensation around him were tempting, made her want so much more. She tightened her grip on the stone railing before she did something foolish.

"I… we… we should go back…" Jaenelle stuttered and, not really looking into his eyes, she hurried back inside, leaving him alone in the terrace. The snap of anger she felt behind her made her regret her decision. All she wanted was to stay with him, but that certainty only made her walk faster.

* * *

Daemon was glaring at the glass door, the curtains on the other side still swinging after Jaenelle disappeared behind them, the anger growing inside him until it was too much to contain.

"Dammit!" He slammed his fist hard against the white stone, releasing his frustration. The Red Jewel on his neck glowed as he sent a blow of power through his fist. A crack spread through the stone and small splinters flew, but Daemon had instinctively shielded his hand against the impact.

Hell's fire, he had never wanted to destroy Lucivar like he wanted to now.

Placing both hands on the stone railing, he bowed his head and closed his eyes. He had been so close. Jaenelle was in his arms until that prick ruined everything! _Well, not everything, _he told himself, taking a deep breath, trying to calm down. After all, he had seen desire in her eyes, he was sure of that.

Raising his eyes to the moon, Daemon thought about everything that had happened that evening, everything she told him.

He smiled slowly. No matter how long it took, Jaenelle Angelline would be his.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone who read this story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. And a special thanks to the reviewers, you really make my day!


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